


Fortune Favors the Brave

by Thuri



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, M/M, melding modern tech and magic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-17
Updated: 2019-07-16
Packaged: 2020-06-29 21:51:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19839211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thuri/pseuds/Thuri
Summary: Roman Graves has left his family home to seek his fortune in the big city.





	Fortune Favors the Brave

**Author's Note:**

> So here is a little something? It’s a bit of a fantasy experiment, that I’m not 100% sure is working, but that I thought I’d toss out to see! It will eventually probably be Logince, because let’s face it, it’s me, but this part only has Roman and Patton so far. Somewhat inspired by Armistead Maupin's Tales of the City.

Roman Graves saw the city of Aldrigefter for the first time when he was twenty-five. He approached from the south, riding the ancient motorhorse that had been all his father had to give him when he’d left home to find his fortune. She was considerably better traveled now than she had been then but seemed the better for it, the miles passing beneath her tires feeding her spirit even as they often sapped her strength.

They topped a rise together and Roman let the reins fall from his hand. Bramble immediately took advantage of his distraction to let out a belch of smoke, her engine rattling to a halt, letting silence descend over the both of them. When he didn’t immediately start her forward again, she reached for the grass on the edge of the road, taking it in to supplement her fuel.

And Roman, focused on the view before him, ignored her.

Aldrigefter spread out beneath him, filling the valley from one side to the other. It shimmered in the late afternoon sun, turning the river that split the city in half into a golden ribbon of light.

Aldrigefter, a city of hope and tolerance. A city of dreams and dreamers, a city founded on the search for mithril and freedom.

A city he’d dreamed of since he’d been a child, now waiting below him.

Grinning to himself, Roman kicked Bramble back to life and rode down the hill to meet his destiny.

* * *

Destiny, as it turned out, was a toll station just outside the city limits and a bored worker who took his coin without enthusiasm. “Purpose of your visit?” she asked, not even looking up.

“Immigration,” Roman replied, flashing the token he’d been given, 1800 miles and two weeks before, when he’d first announced his intent to his hometown office. “I plan to settle here.”

“You and everyone else,” she sighed, pushing over a stack of papers. “Map of the districts, list of allowed places for you to stay until you’ve arranged lodging and work, etc. Welcome to Aldrigefter and have a pleasant day.”

With that, she snapped shut the barrier between her and the outside world, turning away. Roman shrugged to himself and kicked Bramble back into movement, letting her wind her way through the traffic in front of them.

He knew he should watch where they were going more carefully, but the spells animating Bramble were more than a match for navigating under normal circumstances and he trusted himself to them now.

He couldn’t have done anything else, the way his eyes were drawn in all directions, taking in the wonders around him. Swanville was small, barely a thousand people, a “downtown” that consisted of one street. They didn’t even rate a node, having only one ley line and that weak. Here...this was something different.

Though he tried not to gawk like a tourist or country boy, Roman couldn’t help staring at the tall buildings near the river--so tall they must’ve been raised with magic--reaching up into the sky. He could barely conceive of how many people might be needed to fill even one, and there were many clustered together, like a grove of shimmering metallic trees.

Then there were the gardens he passed already, collections of brightly colored, swaying plants and trees near otherwise unassuming houses. And the vehicles, horseless carriages and shimmering metal mounts of all description. And the people riding them! He tried to tell himself they were just people, like any other, but between the clothing, the magical enhancements, the confident, superior looks he caught as Bramble slipped past, he wasn’t certain he believed it.

After one particularly haughty looking woman with bright purple hair raised a violet eyebrow at him, he turned his attention to the sheet of papers in his hands. “Okay, Bramble,” he murmured, frowning down at the mess of streets and neighborhoods. “The immigrants are restricted to Dogpatch,” he said, making a face at the name. “It’s in the north east...have you got the coordinates?”

Bramble tossed her head and smoothly changed lanes on the highway, speeding up now that a destination had been specified. Roman settled himself more firmly in the saddle, watching avidly as the city grew up around him, welcoming him ever deeper into her depths.

* * *

Dogpatch, as its name implied, was somewhat less impressive than the neighborhoods he rode through to get to it. But while it was undeniably more rundown, less obviously magical, it still made Swanville seem like a barnyard.

Roman followed the map in his hands to a square, squat building with darkened windows. The plainly lettered sign above its door read “Intake Office.” He frowned, dismounting Bramble in the small lot beside the building, carefully removing her enchantment key.

The motorhorse shuddered to stillness, locked in place until he returned. Satisfied, he tossed his pack over his shoulder and headed inside.

An eclectic mix of aged tapestries and brand new enchanted posters met his eyes as he ducked through the doorway, blinking against the dimness after the light of the outside. Popular music was playing in the background and he coughed against the scent of potpourri in the air. “H-hello?”

“Just a moment, dear!” came the cheery reply. A few seconds later a short, exceedingly thin woman in her late forties came breezing in, carrying a watering can. “I was just giving the babies a drink,” she said, setting it down and running her hands back over her flyaway ash blonde hair. “They get cranky if they get too dry.”

Roman offered a slightly nervous smile, not certain she was joking or not. Some plants he knew about could get very cranky indeed with their owners...even the ones who didn’t require blood to survive. “Wouldn’t want that,” he agreed, walking further into the room, still glancing around.

“No,” she beamed, the dragon embroidered on her sweater blinking lazily at him as she settled herself behind a desk and gestured to the chair in front of it. “Now, what can I do for you, young man? As if I had to ask,” she went on, before Roman could do more than sit down and open his mouth. “You’ve the look of a new arrival about you. Just got here today...you’ll be needing lodging, won’t you?”

“I...yes,” Roman agreed, tearing his eyes away from the embroidered dragon, only to see the real thing curled up on the desk in front of him, snoring softly as small curls of smoke rose from its nostrils. “Yes, I do. How’d you know?”

“You have that look about you,” she replied, pulling out a red quill and opening her tablet, the screen humming to life slowly. Roman tried to focus on her, but a quick glance around the room showed three other house dragons, all the size of his papa’s beloved cats, draped across the furniture and shelves. “Road dust and anticipation. Now let me see, I think Patton was saying he had room open up just the other day...”

Roman looked down at himself, surreptitiously trying to wipe away the worst of the dust on his leather breeches. He couldn’t deny she was right, but was beginning to think he should’ve stopped for a wash before heading in to meet his fortune, as it were.

The woman across from him seemed to give no notice, writing quickly across the surface of the tablet, the words appearing in the air between them, along with lists and pictures of houses, almost too quick for his eye to follow. “No, no...definitely not, not after that griffin...ah! Here we are!” She turned back to him as the entry she’d pulled up solidified into a solid piece of paper. Plucking it from the interface, she handed it over. “Try this. Best site on Rotter Rise, and I think you’ll like the landlord. Just give me your chit and we’ll get you settled.”

Roman reached for his immigration token as he examined the building pictured, an antiquated confection of gingerbread and lace. Definitely old-fashioned, especially compared to the glistening structures he’d seen near the river...but he decided he liked that. A bit of the old, to keep him grounded in the new.

“There you are,” she said, beaming as she handed him back the token, along with an enchantment key. “You’re all set.”

Roman took the key, looking at the engraving. 2011 Rosebriar Close.

Home.

* * *

Rosebriar Close more than lived up to its name. Rose bushes of every possible color and size had grown into giant trees shading the entire street, sunlight falling in dappled patterns through the interconnected briars. The heady scent of roses in bloom had started three streets away and by the time their shadows covered Roman he felt half drunk on it.

He dismounted in front of 2011, leading Bramble up the short drive. The woman at the intake office--whose name he realized he had completely forgotten to ask--had assured him Patton Faraday, the landlord, was expecting him. He took in the old-fashioned nature of the place--half hidden by more of the ubiquitous rose bushes, these ones all in shades of reds, from a pale-near pink to a deep burgundy almost black--finding the iced gingerbread style of the structure somehow lent the air of a small cottage to the building, though it was at least three stories tall. A small sign above the porch entrance read “Black Cat Cottage.”

Swallowing, Roman set Bramble to stay, making certain she was out of reach of the roses, before climbing the steps and ringing the bell.

As the sign had promised, a black cat did slide out of the door when it opened a few moments later, followed by two tabbies. Their apparent owner--a halfling perhaps fifteen to twenty years Roman’s senior and barely half his height--followed, a welcoming smile spread across his freckled face. “Hello?”

“Hello,” Roman replied, trying to shake off the rest of his slight surprise. He’d known there’d be non-humans in the city, after all. Everything had been going perfectly well, there was no need to ruin it now by looking like a country bumpkin. “I’m here...I mean, I’m Roman Graves. The woman at the intake office...”

The smile on the face of the halfling who must be Patton Faraday widened, crinkling up the edges of his bright blue eyes. “Oh! Yes, yes, Mallantha said you’d be along. You made good time, didn’t you, kiddo?”

Roman gestured back at Bramble, who was straining for the roses beyond her reach. “She helps,” he said, feeling some of his nerves relax. “Is there a place I can put her?”

“Mmm, yes, we’ve a stable and yard out back,” Patton replied. “I’ll have the boy see to it. Now, since you’re Roman Graves, I’m Patton Faraday. Welcome.” He stuck out a plump hand and Roman shook it, finding the grip firm. “This way!”

Patton held the door for him and Roman slipped inside, the scent of the roses now overlaid with that of a warm stew and baking bread. The hallway that stretched before him was dim, after the bright summer sun of outside, and he blinked, watching as the sepia toned pictures on the wall across from him blinked back.

“Hansel!” Patton called. “Hansel! Ah, there you are!”

A young human boy of perhaps fourteen appeared from deeper in the house, looking Roman over carefully. He was blond, plump, with a good natured face and humor in his brown eyes, and Roman nodded a greeting to him. “Yeah?”

“Take Mr. Graves’s motorhorse out to the stable and see she’s looked after,” Patton instructed, gesturing to where Bramble stood outside. “And no joyriding,” he added indulgently.

“She’s more likely to take him than he is her,” Roman offered, smiling when Hansel did the same. “Her name’s Bramble.”

“Got it,” Hansel agreed, leaving them behind. Roman heard Bramble’s whiny of interest as the boy reached her, before turning back to Patton.

“He’ll do just fine,” Patton promised, leading the way deeper into the house. “He’s a good kid, and his sister’s the same. Their parents are gone, poor kiddos, but they help about the place and I’ve tried to give them a home. Come along...”

Roman followed Patton up the stairs as he chattered about the other inhabitants of the house. He didn’t pay much attention, catching only a few descriptions here and there, mostly looking at his surroundings.

“...and of course all three of them left last week, now they’ve built their own houses,” Patton went on, opening the last door down the upstairs hallway. “I wouldn’t have thought there was such call for construction, but they’re doing well for themselves. But it’s left the rooms open, and an open set of rooms doesn’t do me much good, now, does it?”

“No, sir,” Roman agreed, following him inside.

He found himself in a small sitting room, with a single doorway leading deeper, a bed with a cheerful quilt just visible inside. There wasn’t much in the way of furnishings--a couch, a display screen, a small table with one chair and a desk under the window--but the view was lovely, showing the yard where Bramble was already making a nuisance of herself.

“No need to sir me, Roman,” Patton returned, watching him as he moved deeper into the room, looking about. “What do you think?”

“It’s very nice,” Roman said, looking up from the empty cupboards along one wall, trying to imagine actually having this much space all to himself. “Is the furniture included?”

“It is, as are evening meals. You’re on your own the rest of the day, though you’re welcome to use the kitchen. Those cupboards have the standard freshness enchantments, so any food you bring in will stay good. Rent’s covered by your immigration chit for the first month, after that I’ll be expecting your gold, if you decide to stay with us. So? Does it suit you?”.

Roman took one last look about the place. One month, to find a job, to make good on the money his father had spent to give him this chance. One month, to start to prove himself. Yes. Yes, that suited him just fine.

“It does.”


End file.
